The Book
by Seal1
Summary: Everyone wants to get their hands on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows!


**Disclaimer:**

I don't own any of the characters in this little story; I just own the computer it was typed on.

**The Book**

Dumbledore looked up as the door to his office flew back and hit the wall next to it with a loud bang.

"Well? Is it here yet?"

"Severus, you know that it won't be released until midnight," Dumbledore said with a sigh. All in all he was rather surprised that his potions master had managed to wait until the evening to corner him. So far the only people who hadn't trouped up to his office and demanded to know if "it" had arrived yet were the divination professor, who presumably 'knew' what "it" contained and the Defense against the Dark arts professor. Oh, and the new librarian of course. But then again, she was the damn thing's editor, so she knew what was going to happen.

"Albus, you can't tell me that she didn't send you an advance copy. She did last time." Severus threw himself into the chair in front of the headmaster's desk with an impatient huff.

"If you'll remember, the only reason I got an advance copy was because the author didn't want me to be startled when everyone started talking about my death," Dumbledore said with exasperation.

Severus' lips twitched in amusement as he considered the difficulties that little plot twist had caused them. It had taken the best part of a month and the concerted efforts of both the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet to convince the wizarding world that Albus Dumbledore had not, in fact, been killed by anyone. Thankfully, his innocence had been established back in book four, anyone who knew him at all, including present and former students, realized that he might be a demanding teacher, but he wasn't a death eater.

Dumbledore watched him in uncharacteristic silence, knowing exactly what his colleague was thinking. "It's all very well for you to smirk, Severus, but you didn't have to deal with all the owls of condolence, not to mention those sickeningly sweet eulogies. And let's not forget the howlers.

"I don't know what you're complaining about, Albus, after all"

"Headmaster," a wispy voice interrupted from the open door, "I have SEEN!" Sybil Trelawney, the resident "seer", had obviously decided to join the parade to the headmaster's door.

Severus rolled his eyes and prepared to leave. Dumbledore caught his eye and shot him a look that clearly indicated that he was dead if he tried to leave the headmaster alone with Sybil. Severus sank back with a sigh. He didn't care for Trelawny at the best of times, and this was most definitely not the best of times.

"Have you indeed, Sybil?" Albus said as he settled back in his chair.

"I was casting stones when it became clear to me." She turned toward Severus and stared at him. "You are in extreme danger, Severus. A wizard of unmentionable strength and unfortunate mien will be crossing your path tonight. You must exercise all your wits in order to best him."

Dumbledore swallowed a laugh but couldn't quell the twinkle in his eye as he took in Snape's gobsmacked expression. "I see. Thank you for the information, Sybil, we'll be sure to keep Severus safe."

Sybil nodded to Dumbledore and left in a flurry of wispy skirts.

"I swear, Albus, that woman is one ingredient short of a potion. Why do you keep her on?" Severus asked.

"Because occasionally she gets it right, and I don't want her to be with the wrong person when she does get it right." He waved a hand toward the door of his office letting his magic close it softly. "Care for a brandy," he asked as he reached into the hidden drawer of his desk.

Severus checked the clock on the headmaster's desk. Half an hour still. "Might as well. Thanks,:" he said as a glass was handed to him. "So has Potter been up here yet?"

"Not yet."

"Damn. Good thing we are betting on who is going to kick it instead of who is going to come to your office first. How is the pool running, by the way?"

"I have no idea, Severus; Madame Hooch is running it this time. What did you put your galleons on?"

"On Potter, of course. Surely they won't deviate from the truth THAT much." Snape took in the headmaster's ironically raised eyebrow and reconsidered. "Never mind, if they could kill you off, they could do anything."

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching cut off the conversation. Once again the door to the headmaster's office flew open with a reverberant bang. This time a tall young man with disordered black hair entered the room. "Well? Is it here yet?"

Dumbledore sighed. "No, Harry, it won't be here until Midnight. And no," he said, holding his had up to forestall the comment his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been about to make, "I was NOT given an advance copy. Why don't you pull up a chair and join us."

Snape smirked knowingly at his younger colleague. Potter had never been the patient sort, he was a bit impressed that the young man had managed to last this long.

Harry conjured a chair for himself, accepted the glass of brandy that the headmaster held out to him, and turned to glare at Snape. "You needn't smirk at me, Severus, at least I held out longer than you did."

"So I see. And I'm wondering how that came about," Severus asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Harry took a sip of his brandy and looked a bit sheepish. "Erm, well, erm. I fell asleep." He watched, aggrieved, as both of his colleagues burst into laughter. "You can laugh, but I swear that the second year's essays are getting worse as the year goes on. I'd still be asleep except that Sirius firecalled me to see if I'd gotten an advance copy."

"You'll get no sympathy from me, Potter; I have been reading lousy essays since before you were born."

"Thanks, Severus, it's good to know that some things never change," Harry said.

Dumbledore smiled into his drink. It was good to see the two of them bantering in such a manner. There had been a time, not too long ago, when he wasn't sure that the two would ever get along. Thankfully, the war and their respective parts in it had changed all that.

"I don't know why we're so caught up in all this," Harry commented. "After all, we lived through the real war, and we know how that ended."

"Very true, Harry, but so many things have been changed in the stories that you never know how the ending might have changed. I'm obviously not dead, Severus was never a death eater or a spy, Sirius isn't dead. Oh, and don't forget the Malfoys!" The men shared a grin at the thought of the squawks of outrage that had come from both Lucius and Draco at their portrayal as dark wizards. Now that Voldemort was gone, their roles in the war as spies had been exposed, and they had both been awarded Orders of Merlin, first class.

The fire in the headmaster's office flared a bright green and a female voice came from it. "Albus, are you there?"

"Yes, my dear, come through." Dumbledore smiled as his bushy haired librarian came through to his office. He'd not expected to see her this evening.

Hermione glanced at the two men seated before Dumbledore's desk. "I thought I'd find you two here."

"Have you come to tell us what happens?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Is it midnight?"

"No."

"Well then, I guess not." Hermione gazed at his crestfallen face. "Harry, what sort of friend would I be if I told you what happens in the last book. Half the fun is discovering what happens on your own. Oh, thank you," she said as the headmaster handed her a glass of brandy.

"You do know what happens, though, don't you?" Severus asked leaning forward to examine her face as she sat in a chair Harry procured for her. "She had you edit it, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did. But I'm not going to tell you, Severus. You can find out just the same way as everyone else will.

"Humph." Severus managed to invest the simple sound with a vast amount of disgruntlement.

"You know, if you'd told me when we were in school that Pansy Parkinson would write an award wining series of books about the wizarding world, I would have thought you were bonkers," Harry mused meditatively.

"I don't know why," Hermione said. "She was always writing something!"

A sudden burst of light announced Fawkes arrival on his perch. He trilled a soothing greeting, then flew to Albus, a miniaturized package clutched in one claw and a letter in his beak. He extended the note to Albus, and set the package gently on his desk.

"Hm. This is from Pansy. Let me read it to you," Dumbledore said, smoothing the parchment with his hands.

_Dear Albus, Severus, and Harry,_

_I'm guessing that you are eagerly waiting for the final book in the series. In fact, I'll be very surprised if you aren't all sitting in the headmaster's office! I've decided to send the book to you a bit early. If you'll tap the package, it should enlarge and you'll find three copies of The Deathly Hallows. Happy Reading!! _

_Regards,_

_Pansy_

Dumbledore tapped the package, ripped the paper off of it, and tossed the other two copies of the newest Harry Potter book to his staff members. All three of them opened the books eagerly and immersed themselves in the story. Hermione laughed quietly as she closed the door behind her. If she were a betting woman, she'd wager that the three would still be in those positions tomorrow morning. It was a good thing school was out!


End file.
